Der Hexenhammer
by WriterKos
Summary: Insanity is a disease which spreads like a virus and corrupts the soul of man. There is no cure for it but death or killing. Those who die find oblivion; those who do the killing, find only more insanity.
1. War room

_**Title: Der Hexenhammer  
>Author: WriterKos<br>Rating: FR18  
>Parings: none<br>Characters: Everyone  
>Genres: Drama, Casefile<strong>_**  
><em>Warnings: Violence<br>Summary: Insanity is a disease which spreads like a virus and corrupts the soul of man. There is no cure for it but death or killing. Those who die find oblivion; those who do the killing, find only more insanity._**

**_Chapter one: War room_**

**_Men are not prisoners of fate, but prisoners of their own minds. ~Franklin D. Roosevelt_**

The grey walls that surrounded the bullpen are silent witnesses of the struggles and battles fought by the warriors diligently working on their reports. Some were won; unfortunately, many were lost. Each loss cut deeply into their souls and despite their knowledge that they couldn't save everyone, they still felt that they should had done more.

Should have arrived before lives were lost.

Should have gone an extra mile.

Should have... Could have...

Each had a pile of reports before them. Paperwork was the bane of all government employees in the country. Everything you do, every action, every bullet spent must be explained, numbered and categorized.

Each warrior had their own demons and scars, but thanks to their experiences they were prepared to deal with the monsters that inhabit only our worst dreams.

Yet they were about to meet one even they were unprepared to face.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

"Looking good, Mama." Derek Morgan said to Penelope Garcia as soon as she entered the war room with her laptop open in her hands.

She smiled brightly as she sat down in her usual spot, looking at the good-looking profiler who she was used to sharing flirts back and forth.

"I always look good, Sugar." In a magenta dress with green hand-painted flowers, combined with purple doll pumps and matching purple makeup, the blonde technical analyst was a vision of spring in the usual dour and gray corridors of Quantico. Matching her clothing, she was wearing earrings and a necklace made of tiny painted coconuts, in all colors of the rainbow.

SSA Rossi, Prentiss, Jureau and Reid just watched the banter, aware that they could derail to other food centered comments in seconds.

"Let's start." Hotch as soon as he entered the room, breaking the good mood in the air. He nodded to Garcia who immediately became serious and clicked the keyboard of her Vaio bringing some pictures to the plasma.

"During the last four weeks three women were found murdered in three different states of the East Coast." Hotch started the debriefing. "Lucy Millport, aged 32, was found drowned in a river in rural Western Virginia; She was wearing a straight-jacket and there were bags of rocks tied to her.

Georgina Danes, aged 26, was drugged and died asphyxiated in the fumes of her burning home in Greenville, North Carolina. Both had traces of GHB in their systems. Thanks to the toxicology report the M.E. estimates that Ms. Danes must have been drugged at least two hours before dying of asphyxiation in her own home. She was then burnt but the firefighters arrived before all evidence of the crime became completely obliterated by the flames."

"What about the third victim?" Rossi asked, fingering the open file before him.

"Petty Officer Jordana Collins. She was found murdered in her garden shed in Washington DC yesterday." Garcia put another picture, which received surprised looks from the agents in the room, on the plasma.

Derek shakes his head at the report and looks incredulously at Hotch. "You're kidding, right? Is this some kind of joke?"

Reid started playing with his pen, staring at the last picture in the screen. "This is quite uncommon. Beheading is a very rare and very difficult method for killing someone, especially because it requires an extreme accuracy to hit the neck with the correct strength and angle in order to successfully separate the head from the body. You also need the right tool."

"In this case, an eighteen century katana PFC Collins had in her living room as decoration. Extremely sharp. Extremely deadly." Rossi commented, showing the picture of the empty display hanging from the Petty Officer's wall.

"Three different victims. Three different cities. Three different M.O.s What could possibly connect them all?" Prentiss asked.

"The palms of their hands were branded with a hot poker. The burn spelled the word Hexe." JJ said gesturing to Garcia, who put the three marks on the screen side-by-side with the pictures of the dead victims. She looked around and waited for the expected reaction of her colleagues.

"I don't follow." Morgan said.

"_Hexe_ means witch in German." Reid translated, looking at the pictures in the screen. "Any chance our victims had any connection to the occult?"

"None that the police could find. They were upstanding citizens, paying their bills, all had regular jobs. They lived in different cities, attended different churches. The only connection between them is that they are dead and someone left that message burnt in their hands." JJ said, seeing the puzzled looks on her colleagues' faces.

"So, DC here we come." Rossi said in a sarcastic tone, prompting everyone to stand up.

However, JJ cringed and lifted her hand asking for their attention, "Guys."

All agents stopped and looked at the Media Liaison, "Due to jurisdiction peculiarities, the last murder was initially forwarded to NCIS as they have priority to deal with Navy related crimes. So we will be working with the primary investigators on the scene: the Major Case Response Team from NCIS."

"That's not a problem for us, we've shared jurisdiction before." Morgan shrugged, not bothered with the possibility of playing nice with some locals.

"It might be a problem for them." Hotch said, seeing all his agents turn to him. He continued, "Their team leader is remarkably known for his ...uhm… _inability_ of playing nice with other agencies and he doesn't hold the FBI in high regard. Be respectful but don't expect a welcoming committee waiting for you."

He stared down each of his agents, trying to get the message into their heads. Once he had nods from each one he gestured to the door, "Let's go, they are expecting us."


	2. Alpha meets Alpha

_**Chapter Two: Alpha meets Alpha **_

_**"The meeting of two people is like the meeting of two chemical substances. If anything happens, both are changed." **__**  
><strong>__**- C. G. Jung**_

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs strode into autopsy with fast steps barely pausing for the doors to swish open. He approached the two people leaning over the dead body on the autopsy table, its chest opened by the precise cuttings of Dr. Mallard's surgical tools.

"Ducks?"

"Hello Jethro," Ducky said distractedly as he passed a kidney for Mr. James Palmer, a.k.a. Jimmy, nicknamed _autopsy gremlin_ by the one and only Tony DiNozzo. Palmer gave Gibbs a nervous smile before going to the scale to take note of its weight.

"Do you have a COD?" Gibbs asked a few feet away from the body, unwilling to disturb Ducky on his task.

"As you can see, Jethro, I'm not done with the autopsy yet, but I can say with ninety percent of certainty that our poor Petty Officer was killed by a single stroke to her neck, which severed her head in a clean cut and thus ended her life in such a horrible way."

Ducky gestured with a hand and brought Gibbs closer to the x-rays in the light panels hanging from the wall. "She had an excellent health. A healthy heart and lungs, signs of constant physical exercise."

"She was a runner." Gibbs agreed as he remembered the top-of-the-line tennis shoes found in the corner of her bedroom during their search at the crime scene.

"That can be surmised by her athletic arms and legs which had not one ounce of fat more than they should have. The toxicology reports came back and the only chemicals in her body are synthetic hormones – she was on pill - and a common cold remedy found in any pharmacy around the country."

Ducky sighed and went to the table where the head of the petty officer laid. With her blond hair framing her face and eyes closed, she seemed to be sleeping, unaware that her body was laid carved open on the next table.

"Jethro, there's no reason for this lady to be dead but for this wound."

"She literally lost her head." Jimmy muttered as he measured another organ.

Ducky and Gibbs turned to glare at Jimmy, who continued oblivious to the reproach in the older men's eyes. "It's almost like a Highlander movie, you know. _There can be only one_. There was this thing called _The Game_ and everyone should try to collect the power of the others by cutting his enemies' heads off. Nobody knew the origin of _The Game_, but everyone played it and…" He finally he noticed the silence in the autopsy and looks up from the organ he is measuring, finding Ducky glaring at him.

"You think this is a _game_?" Gibbs' voice is stone cold.

Jimmy gulped, "No, sir. Not at all." He turned back to his work and decided to keep quiet.

Ducky wasn't done yet, "Jethro, it takes a lot of skill in order to do such damage in one single stroke of a sword. That katana wasn't a light piece; it was a relic that could easily have done more damage than just that cut if the killer was yielding it around."

"Yet only once was enough, Ducky. Only once."

"I'm afraid, my friend, that whoever did this is someone with skills brought by other kills which are unknown to us until now."

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

After his not so useful visit with Ducky, Gibbs came back to the bullpen and found his agents working hard on whatever leads they had found. Which realistic speaking, it was close to nothing. Swallowing the frustration with a gulp of his now lukewarm coffee, he approached his desk and asked for updates.

"Sit rep."

Special Agents Anthony DiNozzo, Ziva David and Timothy McGee sprung out of their desks as if in a choreographed move and went to stand before the plasma, eager to share their findings.

DiNozzo, as always, fought for the clicker and won, so he started the presentation. "Petty Officer First Class Jordana Collins. Aged 24. Connected to the Media Office in the Bethesda Hospital, she was more like a PR dealing with media for the military hospital."

"According to her peers, she was a beloved colleague. There were no complaints on her behavior or her work. No boyfriends except for occasional one night stands which became fewer and fewer as her work load at the Bethesda increased during the year. Her best friend, Charity Lewis who is also a nurse at Bethesda and with whom Collins had drinks the night previous to her death, said that she was doing nothing particularly exciting this week but work and organize some stuff in the attic whenever she had the time. She was doing something called Sprung Cleaning." Ziva added.

"Spring Cleaning, Ziva. McGee, bank accounts." Gibbs corrected Ziva distractedly, his gaze still on the smiling picture on the plasma.

The younger man took the clicker from Tony's hand and started to show his findings. "She had two loans that she had been paying faithfully for the last year in two different banks, about three hundred dollars in her savings account and her car and her rent was paid for this month. No mysterious deposits, she was just a little low on cash."

"Yet she had an eighteen century relic hanging on her wall, McGee. Isn't it worth a lot of cash?" Gibbs looks at McGee, who grimaced and shrugged as he answered him.

"Yes, Boss. A couple of hundred thousand dollars if sold to the right person. But according to Ms. Lewis, that was a family heirloom. Regardless of how low on cash PFC Collins was, she would never sell that katana. Her grandfather brought it from Japan after his enlisted period in WWII. He was serving in Pearl Harbor when it was destroyed. It's been part of the family since then."

"And she had no idea that it would be the tool used for her own demise." Tony said, a pensive frown on his face. "Imagine, her grandfather survived an act of war and brought it as a memento and later on, she was killed by it."

As Tony was speaking, Gibbs noticed a little commotion as a somber group of people came out of the elevator and asked directions at the first desk in the bullpen. The agent then pointed to Gibbs who studied the group with raised eyebrows as they approached him in a sedated pace.

The first one leading them was a tall lean man, whose face was deeply carved by either experience or pain. Deep brown eyes missed nothing, studying each agent at their desks as he passed by them before finally resting on Gibbs. Serious man gave him a small nod. He was dressed like a lawyer and walked like a lawyer; therefore Gibbs immediately surmised that he was a lawyer.

Right behind him, a middle aged man stood beside a muscular black man sporting sunglasses, his bald head a sharp contrast to the decent head of hair the first one had. Next came two women who would be better fitted to be in a runway in Paris than in a bullpen of a Federal agency if you ignored the natural way they were carrying badges and wicked looking guns hanging from their belts.

At last came a thin youth with messy hair filled with nervous energy who seemed to be ready to pop the top of his head like a cork at any moment, looking everywhere and nowhere, just trying to absorb all nuances of the room in one single glance.

That was a kid who would really benefit of a well placed headslap.

Nahhh… Maybe two.

All those impressions were gathered in mere seconds and Gibbs had to leave his brief contemplative state when the stoic looking man approached him and offered a hand to be shaken, as if he expected Gibbs to accept it straight away.

"You must be Agent Gibbs." Serious man says.

Gibbs glanced at the offered hand and then to the hand's owner, rolling on the balls of his feet but still refusing to shake it. "Yeah. You?"

There was just a small twitch of a smile on the serious man before the hand retreated and he showed a badge and started pointing to his colleagues. "I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. These are SSA Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, our media liaison Jennifer Jureau and Dr. Reid." Each person nodded when their respective name was said, even the nervous looking kid who sent him a wave before moving his curious glance to the peanut gallery where the MTAC doors were.

"And?"

"We're here to help you with your current case. The dead petty officer."

"I don't need help. Much less help of the FBI."

As if it were possible, Serious Man who introduced himself as SSA Hotchner became even more serious with that answer.

"We were invited."

"Not by me." Gibbs wasn't about to let these FBI invade his investigation.

"By whom then?" Rossi asked rhetorically.


	3. Pissing contest

_**Chapter 3: Pissing contest**_

_**"Politics is the art of postponing decisions until they are no longer relevant."Henri Queuille**_

Gibbs raised both his eyebrows as he observed the obvious displeasure in the BAU leader's face, carefully masked by an indifferent air. Gibbs noticed his own team studying curiously the visitors, Tony looking appreciatively at the two women who were ignoring his come hither looks.

Feeling a tingling in his gut, he looked up and found the source of his displeasure: Director Vance was standing at the peanut gallery just observing the meeting happening in the bullpen. He narrowed his eyes when he noticed the satisfied twitch on Vance's lips before it was gone.

Gibbs looked down and found Hotch's gaze narrowed as well, studying his face with a scrutiny that could hardly be copied.

"You didn't know we were coming."

"Nope." Gibbs' monosyllabic answer did little to erase the frown on Hotch's forehead.

The BAU's leader turned around to follow Gibbs gaze and both leaders observed Vance's descent towards the bullpen. The other BAU agents fidgeted uncomfortably as they apparently weren't used to this situation. They were always invited to be part of the investigation and, despite the occasional bouts of resistance from the local LEO's, complete ignorance of their arrival was totally unheard of.

Vance slid a hand over his impeccable three piece suit, unconsciously checking his appearance before he approached the BAU team and offered a hand to Hotch.

"SSA Hotchner, it's a pleasure to have you here. I've heard a lot about you." Vance said.

"I wish I could say the same." Gibbs said immediately receiving a look of reproach from Vance.

"As soon as your Section Chief contacted me regarding this case I was sure that this was a good opportunity to foment good will between our agencies."

Vance's words didn't sit well to Hotch who closed his fists reflexively before forcing them to relax. He glanced to Gibbs and found the same displeasure in the older man's face.

"Your team?" Vance pointed the agents standing in the corridor.

Hotch repeated the introductions. This time the agents weren't as effusive as before, showing a little reserve towards the Director.

Vance lifted an eyebrow at Gibbs, who grudgingly did the same with his own team. Tony was his usual charming self, receiving the expected rebuke from the two ladies who obviously had more affinity with guns than with a _don juan wannabe_ like his Senior Agent. Rossi poured charm over Ziva, gallantly kissing her hand as they were introduced to each other, receiving an warning glare of McGee, who stood up to be presented to the team.

Introductions done, Vance had an irritating air of satisfaction which made Gibbs itch to show a little of his usual insubordination, but he was pleasantly surprised when the BAU agent took the lead at the pissing contest.

"May I have a word with you, Director." Hotch's tone gave not even an inch for discussion.

Vance raised an eyebrow, seeing the stoic air on the BAU leader's face. Vance looked around and all his team members just kept the same impenetrable faces, not giving a hint of what was on their minds. Finding no reason not to acquiesce the request, Vance nodded sharply to Gibbs and took a few steps towards the tall windows, giving them a little privacy to their talk.

Vance opened his mouth but was immediately interrupted by Hotch, who was obviously pissed off at the Director.

"I was under the impression that they were aware of our participation in their investigation."

"Now they are. And they will offer their full cooperation."

"I don't think you are fully aware of how we operate. We are always invited by the primary investigators as they are the ones who gather the evidence on which we build the profile. Going over their heads might alienate us with them and thus jeopardize the rapport between my team and them."

Vance shrugged, not worried about that. "They are professionals. There will be no ill feelings towards you. I will not tolerate that. I assure you."

"No, sir. You can't do that." Hotch took a step forward, towering over Vance. "I don't know what type of game you are playing but I would appreciate if you don't use my team for your internal scuffles. My team is too precious to be used as pawns. Don't ever do that again." Having said that, Hotch turned his back to Vance and walked back to where the team was gathered with the NCIS agents, noticing that everyone tried to school their features to show no curiosity but there were tiny smiles on their faces.

Hotch fixed his gaze on Gibbs, receiving a small nod in approval. He immediately started sorting out orders, seeing a change in posture of the NCIS team leader.

"Reid, go with Agent McGee talk to their technical analyst and put her in touch with Garcia. Both can together dig a connection between our victims faster. Prentiss, Morgan, I want you to go with Agents David and DiNozzo to the last crime scene. Profile the scene and try to get a feel of the place. Report to me once you get back."

He turned to Gibbs. "I'm under the impression that the last victim is under NCIS custody."

"Yes, we have it in our morgue."

"If you agree, I would like to take a look at her body so we can have a better idea of what we're facing here. SSA Rossi will be accompanying me."

"Be my guest." Gibbs said with a smirk, but this time it lacked irony as the little showdown with the director had given several points to the BAU leader in his opinion.

Hotch nodded and turned to the Media Liaison, "JJ…"

She smiled and interrupted him, "I've already spoken to my contacts in the local media, I'll be filtering all information reaching them from now on. I've also contacted the local LEOs on the first two cases and they are forwarding their crime scene reports, pictures, everything they have to Agent Gibbs' team. The first crime scene has become cold; it's been four weeks since the first murder but we were granted full access to the second which is in Greenville, North Carolina."

"It's a four hour drive, Hotch." Morgan complained, already seeing countless hours copped up in a car.

"Only one hour flight." Rossi pointed out, receiving a nod from Hotch.

"After you've seen the last crime scene with them, go to Greenville. Take the jet and report back still today."

"You guys have a jet?" Tony couldn't help but asking, incredulity marking his tone of voice.

Morgan looked at the good looking agent and simply smirked, not answering.

"You don't?" Reid asked innocently, a finger playing with the strap of his messenger bag.

Prentiss chuckled at the thunderstruck look on Tony's face and simply gestured that they should get going. Ziva smirked as well, but became serious as Gibbs glared both at her and Tony.

Hotch ignored the pointed looks the team leader gave to his own agents and said, "You're given your tasks; report back before the end of the day so we may put a preliminary profile."

A chorus of "Ay, sirs" was heard as each agent rushed to do their assigned tasks. Hotch turned to Gibbs who observed with a raised eyebrow as the FBI agents moved in an coordinated manner and each went to a different task, eager to start working.

Both leaders looked towards Vance who nodded and moved away towards the stairs, choosing to ignore the reproach pouring out of both them towards himself. He wisely chose to go back to his office and stay out of the investigation for the time being.

Once the Director was out of their sight and the agents were all gone to their own tasks, there were only Gibbs, Rossi and Hotch in the bullpen.

Hotch turned to Gibbs, saluting him lightly with a nod of his head, "Agent Gibbs."

"You have them well trained." Gibbs muttered, commenting on the efficiency of the BAU team.

"They are trained to bring the paper and mail too," Rossi said in a deadpan tone of voice.

Hotch allowed a tiny smile to grace his lips before erasing it completely, going back to his usual serious face. "Where's the body?"

"Autopsy." Gibbs turned and went towards the elevators, fully expecting to be followed by Rossi and Hotch. They boarded the car and stayed in comfortable silence as the doors slid closed.

"The director?" There was a whole world of questions in Gibbs' tone of voice.

Hotch glanced briefly at Gibbs before looking up at the electronic display of the elevator, the numbers slowly changing as they went down to the morgue.

"He'll get over it."

Gibbs looked up at the same display but a tiny smirk played on his lips as a he felt respect for the taciturn man by his side starting to grow in his mind.


	4. Profiling

**_Chapter 4: Profiling_**

**_"Knowledge is the treasure of a wise man." William Penn_**

Gibbs once again strode into the morgue, this time followed by SSA Hotch and SSA Rossi. Dr. Mallard had finished sewing the body, which was lying peacefully on the cold slab. Jimmy had even taken the care of putting the head in its proper place, close to the body, so the horror of the crime wasn't so blatant to any one who might visit the morgue.

"Ducks."

"Oh, Jethro… Good you're back. Oh… and you've brought some friends with you." Dr. Mallard dried his just washed hands and approached the newcomers, waiting for introductions.

"These are SSA Hotchner and SSA Rossi from the FBI. Apparently our Petty Officer is not the only victim of our killer."

"Really? How come?"

"We're investigating two other bodies with the same word burn in their hands. We believe we have a serial killer."

"Fascinating. And have any of the other victims also had such terrible demise such as the young lady visiting my Autopsy table?"

Rossi took a step closer to the body, staring at the severed head with intensity. "The only connection between the killings is the word burnt in their hands. Always …" Rossi used a pen he took from his pocket to raise the sheet and look at the burn. "... in the right hand."

"Three different victims. Three different M.O.s" Hotch added, folding his arms as he looked at the victim.

"Wouldn't that be lacking the characteristics of what we would call a serial killing?"

Rossi pointed to the hand, showing the weeping wound and the scorched skin close to the letters marking the third degree burn. "Not when the killer leaves his signature in each of his victims."

"Were you able to figure out what kind of tool was used to create the burn?" Gibbs asked, going back to the investigation.

Ducky shook his head, going towards the table until he was standing beside Rossi. He opened the burnt hand and showed it to Gibbs. "Checking the wound, besides the blistering and leather appearance on the area, we were able to find some rust deeply embedded in the skin, showing that whoever did this pressed the hot poker deeply into the victim until it reached the deepest layer of the dermis."

Gibbs was curious about the result. "Rust?"

"Whatever tool used to create this was made of an ore that suffers from the decay due to exposure to oxygen over time." Ducky added.

"Coupled with normal humidity in the atmosphere, rust is an expected result if the poker used in the crime has been left exposed to the elements. Any chance you can calculate how long this tool has been left into contact with air?" Rossi asked.

"I've sent Mr. Palmer, my assistant, with the samples to Abby. She might be more helpful than I could ever be to give you this answer."

Rossi approached the head of the table, putting on some latex gloves before he gently moved the head away from the body, exposing the clean cut through the tissues.

"This cut was made with an amazing precision. One single cut administered with amazing speed and grace that was able not only to cut flesh but to severe the spinal cord and all the elements that kept the head connected to the body."

"Are there any hesitation marks?" Hotch asked, receiving a head shake from Ducky.

"Absolutely not. Whoever did this made it with one single stroke."

Rossi asked before putting the head in its previous position close to the body. "Were you able to find any evidence in the weapon found at the scene?"

"Abby, our lab specialist, is processing the evidence as we speak."

Hotch turned to Gibbs, "Was there any sign of breaking in, any disorder in the house?"

"None at all. The house was in pristine condition."

"No sign of struggle. No sign of forced entry." Rossi muttered out loud, walking towards the x-rays on the wall. "A single cut precisely done. No defense wounds."

"She was a trained officer yet she showed no instinct to protect herself." Hotch said towards Gibbs who agreed with his assessment. "It was either a blitz attack or …"

"She knew him." Gibbs completed the sentence, receiving somber nods from the two FBI agents in the room.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

Tony was almost purring as he left the SUV Morgan was driving, smoothly sliding his hand of the warm hood. Ziva simply rolled her eyes at her partner as she followed Prentiss towards the suburb house where PFC Collins was found the previous day.

"This car is sweet. Do you have many of these?"

Morgan smiled from behind his sunglasses, "Standard issue."

"Why do we always have to go with van?" Tony moaned to Ziva, receiving just a smirk in return as both women hurried towards the door.

"Because Gibbs always drives." Ziva said in a sing-song voice as she entered the house with Prentiss. The profilers stopped in the middle of the living room, looking around trying to absorb the details of the house. The knickknacks on the mantle, the pictures on the walls, the chess set lying forgotten in the middle of a match on the coffee table.

"So what do you see?" Morgan turns to Prentiss, gesturing to the living room.

"Small souvenirs over the mantle indicate places she has visited during her service years in the Navy. Lack of paintings on the walls or pictures indicates that she hadn't settled yet in here, despite the fact that she had lived for three years in this flat."

"This is the display where the katana was before the killer took it and used on Collins in the shed." Morgan points to the empty space in the wall, looking at Tony who nods.

"Yes, it was taken from here but the body was found in the garden shed in the back. No signs of forced entry in there as well." Tony said, checking his notepad where his notes of the crime were. He gestured with a pen in the air, airily pointing to the empty wall.

"If this was a murder of opportunity, how could the killer have guessed that she had a weapon such as this?" Prentiss asked rhetorically.

The answer came from Ziva, "He didn't guess. He knew it was there."


	5. Evil in the heart of man

**_Chapter 5: Evil in the heart of man_**

**"The battleline between good and evil runs through the heart of every man." Alexander Solzhenitsyn**

After leaving Collins's home, the four federal agents went to the airport and boarded the BAU jet towards North Carolina. Thanks to the FBI, Tony and Ziva were introduced to the incredible world of profiling. They walked around the burnt house in Greenville and paid a lot of attention as the profilers picked the place apart.

They took the flight home and as soon as they landed, Morgan's cell phone rang. The agents boarded the car and they watched as he snapped the phone closed in an irritated manner. Morgan sighed and sat on the driver's seat, a dark shadow on his face.

"What's wrong?" Prentiss asked.

Morgan kept his eyes on the road as he put the car on drive. "There's been another murder."

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

Morgan parked the car before a small Alexandria house a few minutes after they had landed. Tony, Ziva and Prentiss were out of the car as soon as Morgan put the car into park, rushing towards the mess of police cars and SUVs surrounding the street. They immediately recognized McGee who was talking with one of the LEOs.

McGee nodded to them as they approached. "The others?" Morgan asked.

"Inside."

Just by his face, they knew that it was going to be bad. Really bad.

Morgan, Prentiss and Tony entered the house. Ziva however stopped by McGee's side, noticing the parlor on his face and how he avoided meeting their eyes.

"Are you okay McGee?"

"Uhm?"

"You look … disturbed."

"Ziva..." he shook his head and looked at her, his deep sea green eyes showing a wealth of emotion that she had rarely seen him express before. "This is unlike anything I've ever seen in my whole time in NCIS. Nothing... no training, no book could have ever prepared me to see this."

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

Morgan, Tony and Prentiss froze as they reached the living room, staring at the little show of horrors set up right in the middle of the place. Gibbs and Hotch were just standing there watching the scene while Ducky and Jimmy tried to slowly move the victim towards the body bag.

"Oh man. This is cruel, man." Morgan couldn't hide his disgust at what he was looking at.

Reid walked around the stake studying it, his encyclopedic mind working hard to put the pieces of the puzzle together. "She was impaled. This is a particularly painful method to die as the victims own body slowly pushes itself against the torture stake, causing thus internal damage until she died due to blood loss and septic shock."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and turned to the doctor who was tapping his forefinger over his lips. "How long did she stay there? Days? Hours?"

Rossi looked at Gibbs playing with his coffee cup in his hands. "She has been missing for two days. Has she been here the whole time?"

Ducky finally rested her head gently on the body bag and zipped it closed, hiding her from the view of the agents and putting an end to her terrible demise. "That's the answer that I must find. Mr. Palmer, could you please help me here?" Palmer helped Ducky move the body bag to the stretcher, tying the straps so they could move the body.

Morgan took a step closer and gestured to the wooden spike standing in the middle of the living room covered with blood and guts of the victim.

"What are we looking here?"

"It actually makes sense now." Reid said " This is all out the _Der Hexenhammer_."

"Der what?" Tony asked, staring at Reid as if he had grown a pair of horns.

"_Der Hexenhammer_. Or the _Malus Malleficarum_in latin. It's an infamous treatise on witches written in 1486 by Heinrich Krammer and Jacob Sprenger, though there are some controversies if Sprenger has never written a single word in it. Some scholars defend the idea that Sprenger's name was simply added to give credibility to the text."

Gibbs glared at the younger man, not liking the babbling away in tech speech.

"Reid?" Hotch was already massaging his forefront, a headache starting to form behind his eyes.

"I'm rambling, ain't I? Anyway, the _Malus Malleficarum_is divided in three sections, each very specific but intertwined with the purposes of a), prove the existence of witches and refute all disbelief against this thesis; b), explain how the witches act and how they recruit more witches and c), on how one should prosecute a witch once one is found and brought to trial."

"Are you suggesting that these women are witches?" Ziva asked, pointing to the stretcher being pushed out of the room by Jimmy.

"No," Reid shook his head emphatically. "But whoever is killing them believes that they are. The M.O.s he has used until now are straight from the third section of the book. He's following its directions like a manual. The first case, the victim was found tied and several rocks were put in her pockets and clothing, so she could drown. According to the Mallus, this is a typical trial by water."

"Trial by water?" Rossi asked.

"Yes, you would bring the witch - almost eighty percent of those tried in Inquisition were women - and you should bring her to a spring of waters and make a test." Reid gesticulated with his hands as he tried to make his point. "You would tie the witch down and tie rocks on her person. If she drowned, she wasn't a witch. If she survived, she was."

Morgan shook his head, horrified at that info. "That's not a trial, that's pure torture. There is no way a person wouldn't fight to survive. It's human instinct."

"And if they obeyed their human instinct they had condemned themselves. If they gave up, they were dead." Hotch muttered, his eyes firmly on the stake.

"But that's a no win situation. The whole test was rigged for failure. And it was common that those who survived the trial by water would die burnt at stake." Reid added, horrified at the crimes committed in the name of God in a time not so far away.

"What about the others? How do they fit in all this?" Ziva asked.

"Well, victim two died of smoke inhalation first, but her house was rigged to burn fast. The only reason why it didn't is because the neighbor was a firefighter and immediately called it in as soon as he saw the smoke. We could consider this to be a trial by fire."

"What about victim three and four?" Gibbs asked, not liking where this theory was going.

"Both the M.O.s used in the last two victims were common methods applied by Inquisition during the witch hunting period in the sixteenth and seventeenth century. Beheading and impaling. There are no accurate figures on how many people were killed during the witch crazy in Europe and America but some scholars believe that in a conservative estimate there were sixty thousand deaths, which of those approximately 80% were women until the last witch trial in 1800s."

"What do ya think?" Gibbs asked Hotch, whose gaze was still on the puddle of blood and guts at the base of stake.

The profiler took his eyes away from the gore and looked at Gibbs, "I think we're ready to give you our profile."


	6. Danger awaits us

_**Chapter 6: Danger awaits us**_

_**Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from a religious conviction. - Blaise Pascal**_

Ziva came outside the house and found McGee packing their gear at the car. She approached him and regarded him with worry, as he still looked pretty shaken by what they've seen inside. He tensed when she stopped by his side, refusing to look at her.

"McGee?"

"I just… I just couldn't look at her … stuck... there..."

"I know."

"It's just... what kind of person does that to another human being? She suffered for hours until she... gosh..."

"A monster, Tim." He looked up when she called him by his first name, seeing compassion shining on her eyes. "Only someone who had lost all capacity of compassion could act like this."

The two agents stood in silence for a moment, each deeply in their own thoughts. Finally McGee approached Ziva and took her hand, squeezing it gently in a small show of gratitude. She smiled gently, squeezing his hand back.

A distressed man in a suit approached the police line, his tie askew and he started to struggle with the cops, trying to get close to the house. The commotion caught Tim's and Ziva's attention, inciting both of them to approach the police tape to investigate it.

"What has happened here?"

"Sir, could you please step back? You can't come in here."

"No, I know Diane, she lived in that house."

"Excuse me," Ziva approached the LEO and asked the man, "You knew Diane Moss?"

"What... oh my God. Is she dead?" The man in the suite gulped, becoming pale as the idea crossed his mind.

"Sir, please could you come with me?" McGee gestured to the man and guided him towards the group of agents so he could be debriefed, leaving Ziva to deal with the curious people standing by the police tape.

She turned her back to them and stared at the scene, but a sixth sense developed in her several years in Mossad made her look behind herself She startled when she found a man right behind her, just two steps behind the tape, his clear eyes gazing at her fixedly.

His skin and his hair were white, almost translucent, carefully protected from the harsh light of the sun by a jumper from a Community College.

"May I help you?"

"It depends."

The strange answer puzzled her, who looked confused at the strange man.

"On what?"

"Tell me agent, do you believe in God?"

"What?" Ziva's hand immediately went to her Star of David, bringing the man's eyes to her neck. His smile gave her goose bumps, not the good kind.

"It's a simple yes or no question. But you've already given your answer."

"I don't understand."

"ZIVAAA!" Gibbs' shout distracted her, making her look towards him. He was gesturing that she should come into the house, but she was intrigued by the strange man.

She looked back to where he was standing and couldn't find him anymore. Still puzzled, she slowly left the police tape and jogged towards the door of the house, still turning the words of that strange exchange in her head.

He was gone.


	7. Oh, Garcia…

_**Chapter 7: Oh, Garcia…**_

__The two teams of agents went back to NCIS headquarters, each agent considering the ramifications of what they've seen and what they were speculating. Whoever was killing these women was evolving fast, had great mobility as he freely crossed state lines and somehow gained free entry in the houses of the victims.

Each case was gruesome in their way, but it seemed that the killer was becoming less human at each strike, showing an appalling lack of empathy towards the suffering of his victims.

As soon as they reached the bullpen they've found Abby standing pacing between their desks, her ponytails moving as she muttered to herself nervously. As soon as she sensed their arrival she looked up and perked up.

"GIBBS!"

"Abby, what's up?"

"I've finished the toxicological report on PFC Collins." She handed the papers to Gibbs as soon as he was at arms reach. He just glanced over it before looking at her for an explanation. She waved at Reid who reciprocated and launched into the explanation.

"Collins had ingested GHB but there was no time to have it processed by her body before she... well …"

"Lost her head?" Rossi offered and received a disgruntled nod from the lab tech.

"Anyway, I've cross-referenced the chemical components found in Collin's body with the other two deaths thanks to the help of your tech, Garcia," she smiles at Hotch and Rossi and continues, "It's from the same batch. As it's a forbidden drug to be sold by human consumption the FDA ordered the commercial lots to be identified by microscopically enhanced chemical markings."

"You can track the lot and the producer of the drug." McGee said, immediately receiving a nod from Abby.

"If it was sold by legal means, yes. Which happened with our magical drug. According to Federal records it was sold to a farm in Western Virginia three months ago. The address is here." She gave a piece of paper to Gibbs.

She smiled as Gibbs leaned and kissed her cheek, "Thanks Abbs."

"I've also been able to find the residue of rust Ducky found in the burns of Collins. They are again consistent with the ones found in the other two victims and … according to the tests I've made this particular hot poker has been left to rust for at least forty years."

"Any chance of identifying the elements that caused the rust? It would help with a geographical profile." Reid asked, but Abby wasn't going to be helpful on that.

"Sorry, I don't have enough trace to create such detailed analysis of the structure. But find the poker and I can positively match it to the rust I have."

She left hopping lightly on her feet towards the elevators, throwing over her shoulder. "Ah... Agent Hotchner, Garcia said that she is trying to contact you but your cell phone only goes to voice mail."

Hotchner immediately took his Blackberry from his pocket and sighed. "The battery is dead."

"I'll make the call Hotch." Morgan offered, immediately dialing his favorite person in the world.

Gibbs' eyebrows almost reached his hairline when the call went through.

"Fountain all digital knowledge, Almighty Goddess of the information highways on the line. Ask and you shall be answered." Came a cheerful and smiling voice from the phone in Morgan's hand.

"Baby Girl, you're on speaker." Derek said with laughter on his voice.

"Of course, I knew that."

"Garcia, do you have something for us?" Hotch asked.

"Sir, I think I've found something."

Morgan smiled at her usual efficiency. "Talk to me, Baby girl."

"I was checking the crime scene photos and something caught my eye." Back in her lair, Garcia put several pictures of the living rooms of all three victims on her several screens. "There was a very beautiful set of china cups on display in victim's three cupboard. The katana she was killed with was also an antique. Checking the other two crime scenes, I've found antiques in the rooms they were killed."

"I googled the picture of that set and bingo - I've found it being advertised in eBay and Craig's list. When her best friend said that Collins was spring cleaning, she failed to mention that Collins was also selling several of her possessions that could be considered antiques."

"Garcia, this is Special Agent Gibbs."

"Hi Sir."

"Any connection with the other crimes?"

"I've just received the pictures of the last crime scene and I'm still checking it but in the first two, following a hunch, I've started to dig deeper in the cyber space and I've found ads of things being sold by every single victim on EBay. All victims were selling antiques online. I hacked the site and found communications of them with a buyer named _AnticaLumina_ who requested to see the items before making an offer on cash for them."

"Are you sure, Garcia?"Rossi asked.

"Yes, Sir. And according to the e-mails, the killings occurred at a couple of days after the scheduled visit."

"Antique sellers have great mobility if they are acting as scavengers. They go from town to town looking for whatever might have some value." Prentiss said, considering the info just given.

"And our vics would have been waiting for his visit. That's why there's no sign of forced entry in the houses." Reid added.

"Garcia, can you track down the buyer?" Rossi asked.

"I'm doing that as we speak."

"I could help her on that." McGee offered eager to go to cyberspace.

Hotch glanced at Gibbs who silently nodded prompting the younger man to go to his computer and start typing.


	8. The profile

**_Chapter 8: Profiling_**

"Agent Gibbs, we have a profile." Hotch looked around as he the agents gathered around him; Gibbs just observing the proceedings with mild curiosity. He noticed how the other agents gravitated towards the tall agent, eager to hear what he had to say. He saw when Hotch glanced to the black bald man, apparently giving him the lead of the show.

Morgan started, "Our unsub is a white male, 30 up to 45, strong and fit enough to yield a katana with great agility. He is also good with carpentry, the contraption found in the last murder's site was a built by the unsub's own hands with the purpose to inflict the maximum pain to his victim."

"He also is fascinated by medieval methods of torture, particularly the ones applied for the witch crazy during the sixteenth up to the eighteenth century. He must have had the chance to either visit or personally research details of how said torture is done, as the knowledge in books wouldn't be enough to guide him how to build a torture device like that with historical accuracy." Reid added.

"And how all that crap helps us? What about motive?" Gibbs took a step towards Hotch, his infamous bad temper showing in his impatient glare at the other man. "All this is nice and dandy but how will this profile help us to figure out who he is and, most important, where he is and why he did this?"

"Agent Gibbs, the profile is merely a tool to assist your investigation, to ensure you have the right guy once you apprehend him. In no circumstance it substitutes the traditional methods of investigation but it can help you ensure that, once you have him in custody, that he's the right one." Hotch wasn't one to be easily intimidated, so he answered calmly without rising his voice to the baiting tone in Gibbs'.

"Regarding motive," Rossi put his hands in his pocket, deep in thought. "I don't think he has one."

"No motive?" Tony wasn't swallowing that idea. "He's just going around killing people with no reason at all?"

"That's not what I've said. We can't find a motive because all his killing is senseless. But we can find the trigger. The event that made him snap from reality and delve directly in his psychosis. There are no real connections between the victims but the fact that they were killed by the same man. He's a delusional man that has suffered a paranoid episode and he's currently living a fantasy: in it he's a witch hunter cleaning the world from evil witches. Any woman that fits his mental image will trigger a deep response and will force him to act in his fantasy. But there's no way to guess who might trigger him until we find him."

Reid agreed, "Paranoid schizophrenics don't live in the same reality that we do, as they've lost all grip in what's real and what's not. They are deeply submerged in their psychopathology making them believe that what they are imagining is real, and no amount of talking or negotiation can bring them back to the real world."

The pain in Reid's tone of voice caught Gibbs' attention, making him study the lanky man with new eyes. "You seem to have a hell lot of knowledge of how this works. First hand experience?"

The BAU agents all froze, their usually carefully stoic masks slipping as they looked at Reid with worried eyes. The younger man paled at what he inadvertently revealed about himself, a hand nervously going up to run through messy curly hair as he gulped repeatedly, his brown eyes immediately seeking Hotch's asking for help.

The leader got the message, immediately putting an end to that line of questioning.

"That's not relevant to our investigation." His tone had a don't-ask-again tone, signaling that this specific conversation was over.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, his deep stare going from the stoic leader and the coltish man, and he clearly read between the lines the heavily protective streak the leader was projecting. He studied the leader and after only a few seconds he knew that the man would not hesitate of flattening him down to the floor - either verbally or physically, it depended on the occasion - if Gibbs insisted in that line of questioning.

He admired that in the man, even if was a little bothersome that he - for now - couldn't satisfy his curiosity about the younger man. How the hell he got in the FBI being so young? And the kid had what, three PhDs? He spoke tech speech worst than McGee.

But okay, back to the case...

"If your profile is right - I'm not saying it is, I'm just considering the possibility - if we have a wacko in our hands, how do we find a witch hunter?"

"Yeah, it's not exactly something that it's advertised in craigslist or eBay."

McGee looked up from his search. "There are not ads for his services of witch hunter, but there are several for that book you mentioned."

Reid went to his side, leaning over his shoulder to look at the screen. "There were several editions of the book since it was written in 1487, losing the spot as the most published book in the Middle Ages just for the Bible. There are several recent editions of it thanks to the current interest in the occult and the Dark Era of the Medieval Ages, so it's a relatively easy book to find."

"What about the trail Garcia mentioned. The buyer in Ebay?" Morgan asked and McGee immediately put a picture in the screen showing a smiling man in is sixties in standing in front of an antique shop. He had an expanding waistline and a receding hairline, and he was so obviously unfit that it was a sorry sight to see.  
>"AnticaLumina is the alias of Roger Winfield, a 65 year old manager of an antique store in Manassas, VA. I've checked his records and his bank accounts and he's just an upstanding citizen who is running a small store. He's a widower, he's overdue to pay his mortgage for the last two months and … according to the records he contacted the first victim offering for the delicate Ming vase she was selling, the second about an eighteen century snuff box her grandfather brought from Scotland when he immigrated and..." he as he typed, he put pictures of the items in the plasma, "PFC Collins was contacted regarding her great-grandmother's china set."<p>

"Any mention of the katana in their communications?" Gibbs asked. Rossi's gaze landed on him, who just shrugged. "He must have known of its existence. Our killer went there with everything planned; he knew exactly where the sword was before he ever set his feet inside that house."

"Ah... Boss." McGee put another message on the screen. "She not only mentioned it to him but she sent him a picture."

In the plasma McGee put an image of PFC Collins during festive holidays - the decorations in the house clearly indicated the time of the year the photo was taken - as she smiled to the camera standing beside her work desk littered with books and papers, the display of the katana just a few inches over her head proudly hanging between two diplomas on the wall.

Gibbs turned to look at Hotch, who had his arms folded and was frowning. The BAU leader looked at him still unhappy with that, "That's not our unsub. The facts fit but he's not physically able to having done what we've seen today."

"Maybe not, but there's only one way to find out." Gibbs had already gone to his desk and gotten his weapon and badge, signaling that they were leaving. As if on cue, Team Gibbs was also following his actions, getting ready to roll. "Road trip, Ziva is driving." Gibbs threw the car keys to the Israeli, who smirked at the dismayed expression on her colleagues' faces.

"Oh, man. I'm dead." DiNozzo moaned.

McGee looked worried at DiNozzo. "Can we take extra puke bags? Just in case... OUCH."


	9. The trigger

**_Chapter 9: The trigger_**

**_I know indeed what evil I intend to do,_**  
><strong><em>but stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury,<em>**  
><strong><em>fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evils.<em>**

**_Euripides_**

The fifty minute drive was extremely shortened by Ziva's usual style of driving, making both Morgan and Hotch step deeper on the accelerator in order to keep up with the NCIS agent.

They drove through the town of Manassas until they reached the quiet neighborhood where the small antique shop was located. The Dodge charger and the two SUVs stopped in front of it, letting the agents slowly pile out. Gibbs approached the dilapidated store, so different from the one in the pictures they've seen back at headquarters. The windows were covered with wooden boards, which were already showing of weather damage.

He glanced at McGee who was checking his GPS, a confused expression on his face.

"McGee?"

"I don't understand, Boss." McGee looked up at the number of the store, "This is the place. There wasn't the slightest clue that the store was closed."

Rossi gestured to Gibbs, pointing to a neighbor shop few doors down where an old lady was waving at them.

Hotch, Rossi and Gibbs walked towards the woman, while the younger agents decided to investigate the building, going to door and to the alley just to check if there was any side entrance to it.

The old lady looked up, her arthritis having bent her hands and legs to painful angles. Her white hair was carefully combed and her flowery dress wasn't new but was clean and carefully ironed. Her eyes were moss green, the same color of the beads necklace hanging from her wrinkled neck.

The three agents nodded respectfully at her receiving a sharp nod in return. Hotch took the lead, showing his badge to the lady and making the necessary introductions.

"Ma'am," Hotch showed his badge. Rossi and Gibbs did the same, "we're with the FBI and NCIS and we're looking for your neighbor, Roger Winfield. Can you give us any information of where we might find him?"

"You cops, uhm?" She leaned forward to check the badge in Gibbs' hand, her gaze going from it to his face, comparing the picture to the man in front of herself. "I was wondering when you guys would come."

"I beg your pardon?" Rossi said as he put his badge away, glancing with a whole lot meaning to Hotch.

"It's damn time you guys came to clear this boy's mess. I've complained to the Sherriff but he said there was nothing wrong with the boy and that I was going senile. But I can see, I'm old but not stupid. This is not normal."

"Boy? I highly doubt Mr. Winfield could be considered a boy." Gibbs said.

"Roger?" The old lady puffed, waving an arthritic at Gibbs. "Not talking about Roger. Talking about his nephew, Billy."

"Billy?"

"Silly boy got some crackpot ideas that witches killed his uncle. Started pestering Louise, the pharmacist down in Center Street, and she had to file a restraining order against him. Poor child was terrified. Roger died thanks to a bad heart a few weeks back, no black magic involved if you get my meaning. That and all that whisky he downed as if it was water killed him."

"What made Billy think that Louise had anything to do with his uncle's death?" Gibbs asked.

"She merely filed the prescription of extra medicines for Roger's high pressure. But she gave him express orders that he mustn't under any circumstance mix it with alcohol. And then the bastard drinks a whole Absolut bottle over the pills. It's no surprise his heart failed. It couldn't take the abuse."

"Where is Billy now?" Hotch asked, just to freeze at a sudden commotion coming from the store. Shots were fired, immediately making the three agents to draw their weapons and run towards the store, leaving the old lady alone.

"PRENTISS, TAKE COVER!" They heard Morgan's shout as a hail of bullets was fired.

"ZIVAAA!" McGee's scream echoed in the alley behind the store, prompting the agents to rush towards a scene out of their nightmares.


	10. Standoff

**_Chapter 10: Standoff_**

**_Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer; nothing is more difficult than to understand him. - Fyodor Dostoevsky_**

As they reached the alley, they've found Prentiss bleeding from a knife wound on her shoulder, the blade still stuck to it. She was leaning against the wall protected by a garbage bin. Standing guard over her were Reid and JJ, both with their weapons pointed to a white man with blond hair, almost white, who was holding the bleeding NCIS agent by her long brown hair. She had a gash on her forehead, the blood freely flowing from where he struck her face against the wall. She was a little out of it, but she was slowly getting her bearings.

Both Tony and McGee had their weapons pointed to the stranger, but they couldn't take a shot as the man had a knife to Ziva's throat and was holding her body in front of his, effectively blocking any shot they might take.

"Step back or I'll kill the witch!"

"She's not a witch, Billy. She's a Federal Agent." Gibbs said, stepping closer to the other agents.

"You lie! I've seen their power. I've felt it when we've met. She bewitched me. Just like the others. I know now. The book is right. We can't let them live. All of them must die!"

"Don't do it, Billy." Hotch shouted, his grip firm on his gun pointed to the young man. "Killing innocent women is not going to bring your uncle back!"

"They are not innocent! It's all there in the Mallus Malleficarum. I've read it. I took me a while and a lot of research but I finally understand it. Krammer was right all along. They are witches. They seduce the devil and then use their wiles on people like me! They've tried to destroy me with their smiles and eyes. They are pure evil."

"They are not evil, Billy." Gibbs said, noticing Morgan silently approaching Billy from behind. "They've had no intention of bewitching you. They are innocent."

"THEY ARE NOT INNOCENT! THEY ALL SHOULD DIIIIIEEE!"

Just as Billy raised his hand to finish Ziva off, Morgan tackled him from behind. There was a scuffle, the knife flying to one side as Billy and Morgan struggled. Ziva crawled away from the fight, drawing her own weapon and pointing at the fighting duo.

Morgan gave him a kick in the stomach, throwing him away a few feet but he landed right beside the knife. Billy grabbed it and stood, running towards the black profiler with an animalistic scream that filled the alley.

Several shots were heard, ripping the white man apart. He froze for a second, touching with surprise the bullets holes in his chest, before falling forward, losing consciousness before he even touched the ground.


	11. This is how you remind me

_Chapter 11: This is how you remind me_

_Insanity is a disease which spreads like a virus and corrupts the soul of man. There is no cure for it but death or killing. Those who die find oblivion; those who do the killing, find only more insanity. - Hotch's voiceover written by Kos_

William "Billy" John Douglas, nephew of Roger Winfield, was arrested for the murders of the four murders the BAU and NCIS were investigating. He would never stand trial as he died a couple hours after being admitted to the local hospital due to heavy hemorrhage.

SSA Emily Prentiss was admitted in the same hospital, but her injuries were minimal not causing any muscle damage, so she was released into the BAU custody with pain killers and orders to stay on desk duty for four weeks or until she regained full mobility of her arm.

Special Agent Ziva David was admitted with a mild concussion and was ordered to stay put for 24 hours so the doctors could have the time to check for other signs of head injury. After a lot of complaining, she acquiesced once Gibbs threw her a glare meant to scorch the most recalcitrant agent.

Of course she wisely chose to obey doctor's orders.

Further searches performed in Billy's house lead the BAU and Gibbs` team to find a real shrine of medieval torture in Billy's basement. From books to reproductions of paintings, down to homemade replicas of torture devices in their natural sizes.

They even found a chair filled with wooden spikes, each carefully carved and sharpened to make the most damage to the pour soul who became strapped to it.

With gloved hands, Reid turned to Tony and McGee and showed the iron poker used to burn their victims, bits of flesh still hanging from the tip where the word Hexe was written.

Both teams silently looked around and started gathering evidence, eager to put the case behind and ensure that this nightmare would be put to rest, never to see the light again.

Later the MCRT slowly observed as the FBI agents gathered their papers and go bags, getting ready to leave. Even Abby came out from her lab to say goodbye to the agents before going back to her lair.

Having packed everything, Hotch walked towards Gibbs, the older man standing up and this time shaking the offered hand with a firm grip.

"Agent Gibbs, it was an honor working with you."

"Likewise. Maybe there's still hope for the FBI."

Hotch smiled a sincere smile, transforming the usual dour face into an surprisingly young and handsome man.

"I prefer to think that my team is one of a kind."

"That is more likely. I just hope to see you in better circumstances."

The agents saluted each other, Tony giving a once over JJ who just rolled her eyes at him.

"So..." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I'm taken. Never gonna happen."

Tony pouted eliciting laughter from Morgan and Reid. JJ's phone rang, making her step away so she could talk into it.

"Are all your cases like this?" McGee asked, just to receive a nod from Reid.

"Pretty much like this. But then there are the cannibals, the sociopaths, the mentally challenged neurotics and the your normal down the earth serial killer."

McGee could just nod to Reid as he started listing the statistics of serial killings perpetrated in the East Coast, not really having the chance to put a word in the edgewise as the younger man kept spouting numbers.

"I see..." he said when Reid finally stopped with the statistics of the sexual assault followed by murder in the DC area alone.

JJ closed her phone and walked towards the team leaders who were sharing a few comments on their own teams.

"Hotch, we have to go. Multiple child abductions in Arizona. The last one was taken two hours ago."

"Very well," Hotch gave a respectful nod to Gibbs and started herding his own people out of bullpen. "Let's go. Wheels up in thirty. JJ, call ahead and tell the pilot that we're leaving immediately towards the airport."

"Ay, sir."

"Morgan, call Garcia and tell her to send everything she can find to our tablets. We'll debrief in the plane."

The agents left after saying rushed goodbyes, eager to move across the country to try to save another life.

Ziva, still medicated and desk bound for a couple of days, smiled as Morgan good naturally messed Reid's hair, receiving a slap on his tummy before all of them boarded the elevator.

"Behave kids." Rossi said in a parental tone.

"He started!" Reid moaned.

"If you don't behave I won't let either of you have the window seat on the jet." JJ said with a smirk on her lips.

"Come on!" A chorus of complains came from Morgan and Reid then the doors of the elevators shut over them, effectively cutting all sound.

"Funny, they remind me of someone, but I can't really put finger in it." Tony muttered, his gaze vacant as he ransacked his brain trying to find the missing connection.

Gibbs smirked and sat at his computer, going over the reports of the last case. "Us, Tony. They remind you of us. Now back to work."

Tony's smile was blinding as he nodded in agreement, obeying the command. Each agent went back to their own desks, filling the air with the sound of typing as routine once again settled over the NCIS agents, until the next crime is committed and they must rush to solve it.

Again.

THE END


End file.
